


I Get Ten Miles to the Gallon, I Ain't Got No Good Intentions

by spuffyduds



Category: Firefly, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets a little help from an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Ten Miles to the Gallon, I Ain't Got No Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inalasahl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/gifts).



> I haven't been able to dig up any consensus as to whether the Impala is stick or automatic. I went with stick because I like stick. If you feel very strongly that she's automatic and reading otherwise will enrage you, I suggest that you not read it. And also perhaps that you try some calming yoga poses. ;-)

Dean's been staring at the engine for a long, long time and he's flat out of ideas. And god only knows how far it is to the nearest gas station--he's been on a lot of lonely, empty roads in his life, but he's not sure he's ever been on a lonelier, emptier one than this.

So he's a little startled when a girl walks out of the brush. He bangs his head against the underside of the car hood, yelps and grabs at his pockets for--knife, rock salt, _anything_ , because there is no way a human chick just showed up out here hundreds of miles from anywhere.

But then she gives him maybe the sweetest smile he's ever seen, and he notices that she's wearing a jumpsuit, and she's got a goofy lumpy hairstyle held together with chopsticks, and she's got no makeup on. Well, maybe a little lip gloss. Most of the evil demon women he's met tend to be a little more glammed up.

He relaxes just a little, and says "Where'd you come from?"

"My spaceship's just over that ridge."

"Uh-huh," he says. 

She gives him another big smile, holds out a hand and says, "Kaylee."

"Dean," he says, and very cautiously shakes. She's warm to the touch, so he's leaning more and more toward the "actual human" theory.

And then she gives the Impala a long slow look and says, "She's beautiful."

Dean decides that whatever this girl is, he likes her. "Yeah, she's a peach, but she's temperamental. Just wish I could figure out what's got into her--she just cut off with no warning. Hey, I've really got to meet up with my brother--you wanna give me a ride? You've got a car somewhere nearby, really, right?" 

He thought he managed to sound casual, unconcerned, but Kaylee cocks her head at him. "Your brother in trouble?" 

Sam's phone call had been garbled and staticky, but Dean had made out "some new kind of demon" and "so fucking many" and "hurry" before the connection went dead.

"Oh, he's just...throwing a big party, didn't want me to miss any of the fun," he says.

Kaylee gives him a long look. "I got a different idea," she says. "How 'bout if I was to fix your car, you'd let me drive it?"

Dean barks out a short, astonished laugh, can't help it. "Go for it, honey," he says.

*****************************************************

He's got to admit she's a pretty good driver.

And, even in a jumpsuit, looking hotter with every smooth shift of the gears.

"So, hey," he says. "After this...party...is over, maybe...?"

She looks solemn, says, "I'm going off-planet again in three days," and hell, maybe she _is_.

"Oh."

But then she grins at him and says, "So party fast."

He does.

\--end--


End file.
